Poem to desperation.

And here I am now

Alone, just like always

Wishing to die

Knowing I’m hopeless

Nobody cares

I’m not worth the damn

Not even my best friend

Understand what it’s like

I could end it all

The pain, I could stop it

But together with it

My chances of change

Don’t leave me lonely

With my mind, my thoughts

I can’t escape the fate

When I’m on my own

How? HOW?

How can they expect me to believe I'm not bipolar? I took a depression test some days ago and it scored less than 30, which meant I wasn't depressed. Now my amount of points is 64. I wanna die. I wanna die. I can't stand the mood swings anymore, nor the depressions. When I'm okay, my hopes rise way too high, just to crush again, harder every time. I'm alone, I'm stupid, I'm bleeding, I'm crying, I'm more dead than alive, and no one cares. I could stop it all, I could end it all, but I don't want to, I wanna live. I wanna see tomorrows dawn, I wanna get married, I wanna travel, I wanna kiss somebody. But I can't stand the pain anymore. This is gonna be a fateful week, I'm sure about that. I'm grounded until sunday. Will I make it till then? Probably, but more like a zombie than as a human. While I'm here, dying, my mom is in the room next door, laughing, having a good time, after ruining her daughter's life, or more likely, her daughter's existence.  My future seems hopeless, just like my present and my past. My life seems pointless. It'd be much easier if someone killed me. I can't cope with this anymore.

After all this sh*t that has happened all along my existence,

I hate everything and everyone in this world. 

But there's no way out, or no one to escape with.

Hold my hand and run with me. Run away forever, far away from the former me. Run away with me to someplace where no one knows our name, tell me things will change, promise me the happiness I so desperately have been longing to get. Hold my hand and pull me out through my window, lets get on a plane to an unknown destination and don't ever look back. Take my hand and help me escape from the darkness I'm trying to outrun, whisper all I need to hear, I won't stop you. Help me find a way out of this black hole. Tell me we can leave, say we'll survive, bring my hopes up, up high. I need you more than ever, where are you? I need to get out, but I won't leave without you.

THIS.

Bloody feelings parade

I did it once again
Another expedition
To a well known place

I found what I wanted
In a painful way
But when the pain faded away
The crimson poison got ready to lead the parade

I find this beautiful.

Untitled.

Thank God I was wrong. I'm not bipolar, what I have is even worse: teen-polarity. Haha, let's forget I just said that. What I mean is that all that I thought is wrong with me, is just that I'm a teenager. Well, if being a teenager involves being depressed half of the time, this is a fucking rip off.
Today I have this empty feeling in my chest once again. I'm alone, no one cares about what happens to me. I could die right now while having a shower and no one would realize until they went to the bath for a towel and found me laying there. They'd cry for me some days, maybe they'd be sad for a couple of months and life moves on. I wouldn't like it to be in any other way either. I'm not worth getting depressed for, not even if I died. I don't know what stops me from ending it all right now. Probably the fact that there are many things I haven't done; like I don't wanna die before I feel unconditionally loved at least once, also I wanna see the northern lights, I wanna learn to play the guitar...
All those wishes for the future are they one's who keep me there today, so I'm able to say music is my only savior, not love or none of those stupidities, because feeling unloved, the lack of love is what's got me here now, thinking about ending it all. Moreover, my psychologist told me to stop cutting, and "threatened" me by saying if I didn't, I'd probably end up at a psychiatrist and having pills. What can I do now to get distracted? Play the piano? That makes me feel wistful, because I think my dream will never come true. Calling a friend? Yeah, I have so many friends waiting for me to call them and tell them about this feelings, and even if I had them I wouldn't call. Reading? I could try that, but first I'm having a shower and I can predict I'll end up cutting once more. I'm strong. I have to resist. This unfair world is not gonna get to me. Things can only get better, and nothing lasts forever, not the good things nor the bad. Someday this will end. I just have to make my way through the pain and the mood swings until that day arrives.

That's all I needed.

I'm starting to suspect I have a bipolar disorder. I know it's stupid to try to diagnose myself, but I've been reading about it, and my attitude coincides with many of the symptoms. On wednesday I'm visiting my psychologist and I'm asking her if there's the slightest possibility of me being bipolar.
I thought it was idiotic to even think I might have a BD, because M (my psychologist) would have noticed, but then I read it can go unnoticed for over ten years. I'll pray for my suspicions to be wrong, I wouldn't like to be accurate this time.
At first I thought I was depressed, but I can go from being extremely sad - enough to self harm, even to think about suicide - to an euphoric mood in a matter of days. So depression was discarded. Afterwards I thought of a BPD, because of the self harming, but I didn't coincide with the symptoms. Later I came across the idea of bipolarity, I dig out a bit deeper and what do I find? Oh God, I hope I'm wrong. This has to be wrong. First anorexia and now this? No. It's impossible. What the hell have I done to deserve all of this shit? My mind is all fucked up. This is wrong. I must be wrong.

I hope it's not only just a dream.

Often people ask me what do I want to become in the future, or more exactly, what I am going to study at college. I always say I'm stuck between psychology, journalism and forensic medicine. Well, that's pretty much a lie.
I don't want to do none of those things. My dream, my passion has always been music, and that's what I want to spend my life doing. I know it sounds like it's just a teen fantasy, but I actually want to form my own band and be its guitarist. I'm not bad at lyrics and I've always learnt very quickly how to play instruments. If Rebecca Black could do it I can. I don't need to become one of those worldwide known stars. I'd be happy with playing my music and having a bunch of good people listening to it. That's all I need to feel I've done something useful with my life.
When I close my eyes and imagine myself and the other members of the band up there, at the stage, it's just magical. I even get butterflies and I get nervous. I'm going to work really hard to get it, I can't wait for next year's guitar classes to begin.
Music has been my unconditional friend all along my life. I'm being serious when I say I probably wouldn't be here, in front of my laptop right now if it wasn't for music.
I owe this to it. 

Emo?

I'm depressed, feel like I'll never fit in, desperate to find somewhere to belong, I'm lonely, I'm all fucked up. But am I actually emo or goth?

 

Self embodiment.

I'd like to dye my hair red or turn into a redhead, pierce my nose and my ears, get a tattoo which says; 

Fight off your demons

and the tattoo at the picture below. Why? I'm a very expressive person. I like to express myself, I like to be myself, and so I think all those changes will turn my outer image into the embodiment of my own personality. Yes, I like to think I'm a deep person. Everything I do has a reason to be done, everything has a meaning, a secret purpose. Well, almost everything. This makes me wonder, what's the purpose of me cutting myself? Why do I do it? Why can't I stop? When the self-harming and the anorexia problems are over, I will get tattooed the quote above. Or maybe before, so that I can look at my tattoo and remember I have to stay strong. Who knows. 

Music

It keeps me here today.

It scares away my demons.

It stops the flow of blood.

Hopefully my future.

Already my present. 

All I can think of. 

Running through my fingers.

Filling up my mind. 

My dream, my passion

my heart, I can't deny.  

...

Just a little pissed.

Recently I've been hearing and reading all this bulls**t about My Chemical Romance, alias my favorite band on the face of the earth. People should calm the f*ck down. They never promoted self harm or suicide, and whoever thinks so just doesn't understand their lyrics. In Famous Last Words they even say: "I am not afraid to keep on living". Since when that is a synonymous of "live sucks go kill yourself"? The fact that somebody that listens to My Chemical Romance commits suicide or self harms doesn't mean that it's the band's fault. For your information, just in Britain one out of every twelve teenagers self harm. You're going to blame My Chemical Romance for all of them? Grow the hell up and learn to listen to good music. You don't even have to listen to My Chemical Romance, but just respect them. They never hurt you or did nothing bad to you. Let them live their f*cking dream. 

 

*Quite a negative message the one above huh? WTF is wrong with you?

My weirdness makes me who I am.

So now I'm headed to depression, I've cut (and I'm finding it more hard to stop than I thought it would be), I'm sad, I'm lonely, I feel misunderstood, people keep asking me whether I'm emo, goth, heavy or what the hell I am, and... I'm learning to play the guitar and the piano, writing songs, broadening my musical taste (rock, metal, screamo, grunge, punk) and as you might see, all the good things happening are related to music. It's what keeps me alive, my only hope for the future. Music is my absolute everything and I mean it. What I do to survive all day long is watch horror movies, read, write, or anything related to music. I'm weird and I've been told so. Am I proud of my weirdness? Well, it's just what makes me who I am. Am I willing to change? Not even for all the gold in the world. I'm me with my flaws and my virtues - though the flaws outnumber the virtues by far - and that's what make me unique. That's me. That's all I can be.